


Chicago is So Two Months Ago

by Lundy



Category: Fall Out Boy, Hayley Williams - Fandom, Pete Wentz - Fandom, Peterick - Fandom, fob - Fandom, patrick stump - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, F/F, F/M, M/M, fall out boy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-30 15:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3941623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lundy/pseuds/Lundy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following a botched vaccination effort, adults became victim to a virulent and fatal strain of influenza. All adults are dead, and everything has fallen apart. <br/>Patrick, a shy seventeen year old, tries to protect his little sister and friends against the imminent dangers of a Chicago run by kids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. As We Knew It

Patrick slammed the door behind him. The others, sitting in a circle on the living room floor, looked up at him.

“Half a bottle of Ibuprofen, three boxes of cereal, four cans of tuna, and some clothes. I could hear dogs coming so I had to run.”

He dropped the bag slung over his back on the floor. Andy nodded, and she started to place the items in their respective piles. Patrick sat on the couch, exhausted. He was thankful that they had chosen to stay at Joe’s apartment. It was the largest and the most well equipped.

“Thanks Pat. I’ll go with you tomorrow. I think we should hit up part of that complex on Fourth and Winston.” said Joe. Her name was actually Jorah, but she thought that sounded a bit too Jewish. She demanded to be called Joe.

“I think I’m gonna get something to eat then sleep for a bit,” said Patrick. The others agreed and Patrick stood, walking to the kitchen. The room was filled with tidy piles of food. This was the stockpile they all worked for. Patrick had felt guilty initially, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Newspaper clippings covered the walls, along with formal reports on letter paper. Patrick looked over them as he ate a cup of applesauce.

_In 1981, the World Health Organization launched an initiative to vaccinate every adult and child against a fundamental protein of all flu viruses in an attempt to prevent infection from any strain. (Vaccine BSI: Broad Spectrum Influenzae)  This program was modeled after the eradication of smallpox and in 1992, only twelve years after implementation, nearly every adult and child on the planet was vaccinated. This was made possible through global financial cooperation.  Vaccines were sent to schools, church groups, and stations  set up in communities for free vaccination. By 1994, the vaccination process was stopped, as experts predicted that herd immunity would protect new generations, as it had with smallpox._

_Recently, however, following reports of a new cluster of flu-like virus in metropolitan, suburban, and rural areas on four different continents, researchers have discovered an acute strain of flu that affects only individuals previously vaccinated. Though any conclusion is premature, it would appear that the vaccination caused a small structural abnormality in immune and respiratory cells that has rendered them defenseless against an RNA sequence found in this virus. Unvaccinated individuals are not at risk, but all those who were vaccinated (including retroactive vaccination of adults) must avoid public spaces or risk infection. No treatment has come forward for this virulent flu, and extreme precautions must be taken._

This was the first report they had gotten, attached to the front door of everyone in the city. Next on the wall was an obituary.

_George Ryan Ross II- November 6, 1966 - February 12, 2015._

Ryan’s dad. He had been the first of their parents to go. Next on the wall were scattered headlines.

I _llinois Governor calls for indefinite school closures_ was followed, in a streak of comedic morbidity with _Illinois Governor dies, along with Vice Governor and Entire Family._

These reports continued for a while, until eventually there was nobody left to publish the papers. That had happened a few weeks ago, in the middle of March. It was early April now, and nobody was left to do anything. The televisions went first, followed by the internet and newspaper. Radio only lasted a little longer.

The power had gone out in early March-no adults remained to run the plants. It had been disorienting at first. Patrick would flick the light switches out of habit and  nothing would happen. They were used to it now, though; do almost everything during the day, and what can’t be done then must be done by candle, lantern, or flashlight.

Patrick walked into the room he shared with Brendon and Ryan. There was a queen sized bed that Patrick and Brendon shared, a mattress on the floor for Ryan.

Patrick flopped in the center of the bed and closed his eyes. He had been with this group for about a month. They had started staying together as their parents died, or were dying. Patrick stayed with his mother and sister until his mother died. He wrapped her in a sheet, took her to the park at the end of the block, and buried her there. That afternoon, he packed his things, got his nine year old sister, Megan, ready to go, and went to meet Joe and Ryan.

They had been joined by Andy, Brendon, and Hayley. Haley’s fourteen year old brother, Damon, was with them. Patrick sighed as he began to doze. Three months ago they were normal-- held jobs, smoked, and attended school most of the time. Now they were here: seven kids in a chilly apartment building, eating cereal and powdered milk. Food hadn’t been a concern. There was enough left over to sustain them almost indefinitely. The only difficulty was gathering it.

Patrick’s door open and he jumped awake. Megan stood in front of him, wide eyed.

“Megan! What is it! What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Pat-- I just remembered. Audrey. She’s an only child. We need to help her. She’s been alone and her parents are probably gone.”

“Okay. Okay. We’ll go get her. Just...give me a second.”

Patrick sat up and put his shoes on. Megan waited at the foot of his bed until he stood up.

“We’re gonna take a car so we can bring some of her stuff with us. Tell the others we’re leaving and get the keys from Andy.”

They left the house and jogged down the stairs. Joe’s car, a sleek little Crysler, was parked on the sidewalk. When asked about it Joe always said “Well damn, who’s gonna tow it?”

They had been siphoning gas from taxis and other cars to keep the car running.

“I want you to close your eyes if I tell you to, okay Meg?”

Not everybody took as much care as they had with their mother and bodies littered the streets in various states of decomposition. Thank goodness for rats and pigeons, picking the bones and keeping the streets clean.

Megan kept her eyes to her feet as Patrick sped through the streets. He was glad she kept her head down because there were at least two corpses per block. It took few minutes to get to Audrey’s block.

“Let’s go get her.”

Megan climbed out of the car and Patrick followed. They climbed the steps into Audrey’s second story apartment and knocked on the door. No answer. Patrick knocked again, harder this time. Still no answer. Patrick was afraid it would come to this. He pulled the lock pick Andy had given him for Christmas from his pocket. After fidgeting for a minute the lock clicked and he pushed the door open. He glanced around the tidy apartment. He was surprised; he thought Audrey would have created a mess by now. After a moment he realized why. Audrey was huddled on the couch facing the window. Her face was gaunt and stained with tears.

“Audrey?” Patrick asked, hesitantly. She just looked at him with glazed eyes.

“Okay. Um...Megan...if you want to sit with her for a minute, I’m gonna go find a few of her things. Yell if there’s a problem.”

He left the living area and walked into the hall. He opened the first door on his left. It was Audrey’s room, judging by the floral bedspread and misplaced toys on the floor. He knelt in front of the purple dresser and looked through it, grabbing a mismatched bundle of clothes. They only needed things for a few days; they could come back for more later. He glanced at her bed and saw a worn stuffed cat. He shoved the cat in the backpack alongside the clothes.

Patrick walked back into the hall. The next room was the bathroom. He grabbed the orange toothbrush with a unicorn printed on it and added it to his pack.

There was one door left. It must be her parents’ room. Maybe there was something that could be salvaged there-painkillers or boots or any other useful item.

He pushed open the door and stepped in. He looked up, took a breath then gagged, vomiting on the carpet. He staggered back and slammed the door shut. He wiped his mouth with his trembling hands. They were in there. Or their corpses were. One was on the bed, the other a few feet from the door. He had no idea how long they had been there, but it wasn’t fresh. He couldn’t clear the smell of decomposition from his sinuses.

Patrick walked down the hall, quickly this time.

“Come on girls. Let’s get going.”

Megan looked at him.

“I can’t get her to move. She won’t even look at me.”

“Um. Okay. We’ve got to get out of here. Take this backpack. I’ll carry her.”

Megan took the large pack. Patrick took Audrey, holding her like a baby with his hands under her knees and shoulders. The three of them walked out of the apartment. Patrick set Audrey down gently in the back seat and took off. He carried her up the stairs to Joe’s apartment, panting a little. He opened the door. The others were sitting in the same circle but looked unsettled.

“What’s going on? Is everybody okay?”

“Yeah. We’re fine. We just--”said Ryan.

“Wait,” said Patrick. “Who’s that?”

“Patrick, this is Pete.”  


	2. Don't Let Him Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick has just stumbled in to find a wounded, exhausted Pete pleading for help from he and his friends.

“Megan, take Audrey into the other room. Drag her if you have to. Okay, Um...Why is he here? I thought we agreed on no more people over the age of fourteen? asked Patrick. They had initially agreed on no new people, but decided that leaving kids alone to suffer would be abhorrent. Audrey, for example, needed their help-- no explanation needed.

“Yeah, well, he came to us.” Hayley answered. She sat cross legged on the floor in a soft tank top. Her soft brown hair was beginning to appear at the top of her head as her characteristic orange grew out.

“Did you guys tell him where we were staying, because we thought it wasn’t safe to let more people--”

“Patrick, shut up. He found us. Brendon went into his room and there was this guy, chilling on the bed. Nearly had a heart attack. But yeah, he got in somehow. He said he was looking for food, just like we do,” said Ryan.

“I think we should keep him. He’s got brains, clearly, and he somehow got over the wall or through the gate. He said he’s been looking for a group to join. He said he was with a few guys down on Heather Street but they were getting rough. He left when there was a knife fight over some heroin and his buddy died.”  Joe said.

Patrick looked back at the boy on the couch beside Ryan. He had tannish skin and close cropped black hair. He was well built but looked thin. His arms were exposed, and Patrick could see a few poke and stick tattoos on his arms.

“Um...you decided to trust him? After what happened to Alejandra?”

The others stared at him. They didn’t mention Alejandra if they could possibly avoid it. Pete spoke for the first time.

“Alejandra? Who’s that? What happened to her?”

Joe swallowed before speaking.

“Alejandra was another friend of ours. She was into more hardcore stuff than us. Heroin and crack and stuff. She stayed with us for a while at the beginning, and she brought this guy she had met a couple weeks earlier with us. Mike. Her older brother died and he was one of his friends. But they were with us for about a week and they had a fight. I think he was drunk or high or something. She wouldn’t kiss him or something. At least that’s the part I saw before they went into the bedroom. He…”

Brendon choked a little on his words.

“He pulled a boxcutter and got her in the neck then ran. We didn’t find her for a couple hours and by then we couldn’t do anything.”

Pete looked alarmed.

“Damn, no wonder you worry about having me here. I’m not gonna do that, I swear.”

“Yeah, you’d better not, I don’t want to carry any more of my friends’ bodies wrapped up in a bloody sheet.” Patrick replied.

“I still think he should stay. He can sleep on the couch.”

Patrick’s face showed that he was still unconvinced.

“You can keep watch over me full time, if that helps,” offered Pete.

“Yeah, I’ll do that. I’ll sleep on the other couch. Ryan, you get the bed. And why do you want to be with us so bad anyway?”

“Hey, things have been bad. I need a crowd. I can’t keep this up on my own. I know I can’t. The guy who stabbed my buddy wants to find me. And I’ve got this.”

Pete pulled his jeans up to mid calf. Patrick’s nose wrinkled. Pete had several swollen, red, and hot looking bite marks on his leg. The skin was tight around the scabs, which obviously held pus.

“Dog bite. Came too close to its garbage can or whatever. It’s getting worse and I need some help. Please.”

Patrick pinched his lips together. Pete did need help. A bite like that could kill him.

“ I can help with that,” said Andy. “I’ll have to do it in here because there’s more light though. It’s gonna hurt like hell. So...Joe. Do we have any open vodka bottles?”

Joe nodded.

“What else do you need?”

Andy bent to examine the wound, pulling her long hair out of her face.

“Rubbing alcohol, washcloth, xacto knife, cotton balls, and one of those bottles of antibiotics. Ointment too.”

Joe left the room and gathered the supplies. Patrick sat on the couch opposite Pete, who had Andy gently poking at his leg. At least antibiotics weren’t in short supply. Hundreds of people had been given prescriptions out of desperation, but most died before they could complete the medicine.

Joe returned after a few minutes, her arms full. Andy opened the mostly empty bottle of vodka.

“Okay. Drink some of this.”

Pete smiled. “No complaints,” he said, then tipped the bottle into his mouth. Patrick looked on in horror as he tipped the bottle back further and further, pouring the remaining quarter in his mouth. The faces in the room ranged from impressed to disgusted. Pete grinned.

“Dont’ worry. I can hold it.”

A few minutes later, Pete visibly relaxed and his cheeks flushed.

“You-You’re good to go!” he slurred.

Andy bent over his leg and went to work, opening the wounds with the xacto knife.

“Ugh! Pat, go get a rag!” she exclaimed. Patrick darted into the kitchen and returned with a threadbare cloth.

“Okay. Set it down below the leg,” Andy demanded.

He did as she said and saw why. Pus and blood were dripping from Pete’s leg onto the carpet. Patrick turned his head to keep from gagging. He didn’t have Andy’s stomach. He clenched his teeth and turned around again. Pete looked only a little distressed, and Andy’s expression had changed from disgust to focused as she worked. After opening and draining the marks on the leg as best she could, Andy soaked shreds of cotton balls in rubbing alcohol.

“Okay Pete. This is gonna hurt. I need you to hold still though.”

Pete, looking relaxed, didn’t brace himself but closed his eyes. This expression tightened as Andy prodded soaked cotton into the wound, packing it with disinfectant.

“That should do it,” she said as she wrapped the entire leg in an elastic bandage. “Here. take two of these now.” Pete obediently swallowed the antibiotics. He dozed off within a few minutes.

“Okay. Glad that’s done. I’m gonna go get cleaned up,” said Andy. “Patrick, I think you should keep an eye on him, just in case.”

“Okay. I can stay out here tonight. I’ll make noise if he gets up to anything.” Andy left the room. Darkness began to gather around Patrick and sleeping Pete. Pete looked less harsh when sleeping.His lips softened to reveal large, white teeth. His muscles relaxed and he looked peaceful. Patrick dozed off, thinking that Pete might even be attractive under different circumstances.


	3. He Can't Sweat this One Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick and his friends have been left to care for an injured young man named Pete after civilization has fallen apart. Patrick is reluctantly responsible for this boy he sees as a danger.

Patrick didn’t wake until Brendon stomped in and threw open the thick curtains covering the big living room windows.

“Rise and shine, bitches. Everybody’s dead.”

Patrick sat up. For a moment he was startled to see Pete was stirring on the couch.

“Brendon! What in hell! I just..”

Patrick rolled over and shoved his face in the couch pillow. He looked rumpled and his eyes were crusty from sleeping. He glanced back at Pete, who already looked alert though still ragged. His lips were chapped and his eyes unnaturally bright . Patrick made a mental note that Pete was a morning person, and therefore could not be trusted. Andy walked in lightly. Her light brown hair was pulled back and the ink on her arms was visible-- her sweatshirt from last night had been replaced by a simple athletic tank top. She was one of the oldest among them, and had gotten some tattoos done before everything had fallen apart. She still looked a little ragged from her days at the hospital--though she was only a student, most of the other nurses were dying or already dead and she was counted on to take care of them. It had taken a toll on her, and she hadn’t yet recovered fully.

“Sorry guys. I needed to check Pete’s leg, and Hayley and Damon have a question for you, Patrick,” she said in her soft, lilting voice. Patrick sat up and looked around again. Andy was already unwrapping the elastic around Pete’s calf.

“Oh..okay then. Ugh. Patrick, please go get the thermometer.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. He could smell the wound on Pete’s leg from across the room. He half sprinted out of the space into the kitchen where the thermometer sat in a cabinet. He braced himself and walked back in. As he handed the instrument to Andy, he stole a glance at the leg. It was tight and swollen and looked angrier than yesterday.  More pus and blood ran down into the bandage on the floor. Patrick returned to his place on the couch, staring out the window to avoid looking at the wound again.

Andy sighed a little as she plucked the thermometer of Pete’s mouth.

“One hundred and three. I’m surprised he’s sitting up. This is one fever he can’t sweat out.  I’ll be right back.”

She left the room, returning a minute later with one of the books she had obtained as she trained for a nursing program she never got finish attending. She thumbed through it, whispering to herself. A minute later, she looked back at the pair of them.

“I want to get him some oral ampicillin. I don’t know where to get it though...I don’t want to try to get into the pharmacies yet though. Um..wait. When I was working at the hospital  there was this lady we sent home with some. I saw her chart. She lived in the Maplecreek apartments down on Fourth and Goulding. Apartment fourteen. I only remember that because it’s next door to where my aunt used to live. This is a stretch, but I’m wondering if she might not have some left? She came back in with the flu and died a few days later, so she’s sure to have some left. I think we should go and get it. Let’s call the others in so we can talk about it.”

She stood and walked around the house, knocking on all the doors except the one where Megan and Audrey were still sleeping. The others filed in. Brendon returned. Ryan came in, still wearing pajama pants. Damon, Hayley, Joe. The sat on the floor and looked at Andy, who stood next to Pete. Pete was looking less alert now, and Patrick could tell that the temperature was getting to him. Andy spoke.

“Okay. So I know we were hoping to gather some more food and possibly some seed today, but we really need to get this stuff for Pete. His leg is pretty bad and this is the next thing I can think of before we have to do things that may not be reversible.”

Pete looked slightly alarmed but was too ill to respond much. Andy continued explaining her plan.

“He needs ampicillin. There was a patient  I had who got some for a cat bite. She got the flu though, so she never got the chance to finish the dose. But I know where her apartment is, and I think we could break in and find it. So some of us need to go and look, I think.”

The others nodded amongst themselves and looked ready to make a plan when Patrick spoke.

“Um...no offense Andy, I guess, but why are we risking our lives for this guy we don’t even know? He’s not our friend. He just showed up here. There are dogs and worse out there. Shouldn’t we just cut our losses and keep to our normal plan? We aren’t a hospital service.”

As soon as the silence swept over the room, Patrick knew that he had misspoken. Pete wouldn’t look at him but Hayley and Brendon glared.

“We’re saving him because he’s a person? Because he needs our help? Come on Patrick, don’t do this. If you don’t want to go out and help you don’t have to, but keep your mouth shut in the meantime,” Ryan said harshly.

“Okay then. Sorry. Andy, you make the plan. What do you want us to do?”

“I need to go with you because I know what I’m looking for. That’s a rough part of town though. I think we need everyone we can get to go. But I’ll have you stay here and keep an eye on him, Patrick.”

Patrick immediately protested.

“Just because I said...no, don’t leave me here!”

Andy suddenly became harsher than usual.

“Patrick, I insist that you stay here. Somebody needs to wake him up for ibuprofen and food. Plus you’re tired from yesterday. The little girls need to sleep, so it’s not like you’re gonna be watching them all day. Stay here. He might choke on his own vomit and need your help.

Patrick was silenced by the intensity in her normally mild voice. He understood that this was his punishment for what he said earlier.  Brendon slapped his thighs and stood up.   
“Let’s leave in ten guys. Break.”

Joe, Damon, Hayley, Ryan, and Andy all stood and went about preparing to go. They dressed, ate, and gathered their possessions. Pepper spray, knives, and a single handgun kept safely in Joe’s belt. The gun was their most prized possession. It would get them what they wanted, if they had the courage to use it.

“Get Pete something to eat and help him use the bathroom if he needs it. We’ll be back in a few hours.”

They left, leaving the apartment quiet until Patrick spoke.

“I’m sorry man. I shouldn’t have said that. Is there anything you need?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Pete said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to take care of me either.”

“I’m gonna get you something to eat so you can have the motrin. Pudding okay?” Pete nodded. Patrick was relieved. He didn't want to deal with anything that would be to hard to clean up if Pete puked. He went to the kitchen, grabbing a couple packs of pudding and the bottle of medicine. He filled a glass with water. The water had still been running; he supposed that because the infrastructure was fine, there would be reason for the water to stop coming. He wasn’t sure though.

He wandered back to the living room where Pete was reclining, with his eyes half closed. His socked feet were curled under him and he was shivering a little.

“Hey. Pete. Wake up. I’ve got some stuff for you. Do you need blankets?”

Pete nodded as Patrick set the items on the table in front of them and gathered some blankets. Pete didn’t have the energy to move himself, and so Patrick tucked the blankets around him like he had when Megan was a little girl.

“Thanks man, this is embarrassing,” Pete said with his voice weak.

“Don’t mention it. Do you need help eating?” Patrick felt awkward asking this--Pete was an athletic, good looking, intelligent adult that he was offering to take care of like a baby.

“Um....yeah. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

Patrick peeled the wrapper off the pudding and shook three ibuprofen out of the bottle. He began to put small spoonfuls of pudding into Pete’s mouth. After one cup was empty, he began another one, punctuated by little sips of water.

“Here. Swallow this. It should help with the fever.” Pete obliged. They sat in silence for a while. Patrick shivered a little. A loud pattering began from above them.

“Holy shi- I mean smokes.” Patrick walked to the window and looked outside. The sky had filled with clouds and large chunks of hail fell between periods of torrential rain. The trees shook from a harsh wind.

“No wonder I’m cold. It’s awful out there.”

Pete had nothing to say on this so he nodded.

“Hey, could I have a little more water?” Patrick walked back to the sofa and sat beside him, holding the glass to his lips. He drank until he was satisfied. Patrick leaned back into the sofa.

“Hey. You’ve got goosebumps. Take one of these blankets,” said Pete.

“No, I’m good. You need them more than I do.”

“Alright then, be that way,” Pete said, mustering what little strength he had gained from the food. He moved the blankets as he scooted towards Patrick, covering them both. Patrick could feel the feverish heat coming from Pete’s arm that pressed against his own. He became aware that his heart was pounding. The infection couldn’t mask how good looking he was. He began to feel self conscious, and looked at Pete beside him. Much to Patrick’s relief, Pete was already beginning to doze. Patrick leaned back against the cushions, letting himself drift off as he felt Pete’s breathing. 


	4. Alone Together--With My Little Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete, very sick but taken in by Patrick and his friends, is left in the care of Patrick.

Patrick woke a little and looked around the room and became confused. There was a steady, warm weight on his lap. He looked down and saw Pete, who appeared to have tipped over or readjusted straight onto Patrick’s legs. His breathing was slow and he looked peaceful. Sweat coated his forehead, indicating that his fever had lessened somewhat. Patrick felt a little uncomfortable with Pete pinning him to the sofa. If Brendon saw this he would have a field day. He didn’t want to disturb Pete though, so he held still.

The room had brightened  as the mid morning sun hit the clouds. He glanced at his watch. Eleven forty seven. Andy and the others had been gone for about two hours. Nothing to be concerned about if they were walking a few miles, and there would have been no reason to take a car for only a bottle or two of pills.

Pete stirred with a small, sleepy groan, bringing Patrick’s attention back to him. He looked distressed, as though he were having a bad dream.

“Shhh. It’s okay. Shhh.” whispered Patrick. He touched Pete’s hair and gently moved his head back towards his lap. Pete relaxed but Patrick continued to run his fingers through Pete’s short, thick black hair.

“He’s cuter than your last boyfriend,” said a voice from behind him.

Patrick jumped and whipped his head around, though Pete kept sleeping.

“Megan! What the hell! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” he snapped.

Megan was standing in the doorway wearing a T-shirt of Brendon’s as a nightgown. She pretended to look ashamed but there was laughter in her eyes.

“Sorry Patrick. It’s true though.”

“How do you know how cute he is? You’re nine years old!” Patrick said as his cheeks flushed.

“I’m nine years old but I’m not blind,” she replied. Patrick rolled his eyes at her.

“Don’t give me that attitude, Megan.” said Patrick, trying to sound stern, but he choked on his laughter and smiled at Megan.

“My neck hurts. Come around front and talk to me.”

Megan walked to him and he laughed at the sight of her. Messy brownish hair, skinny kid legs poking out from a Motley Crue t-shirt. She plopped down on the floor below him.

“I just woke up. Audrey’s still asleep, but I bet she’s hungry. I think I should try and wake her.”

“Give her a little more time. We’ll fix some food in a bit and then wake her up to eat. Did you get her to talk at all last night?”

“No. She cried a lot though. I had to put a pillow over my head because it was pretty loud.”

Patrick’s heart sunk that his little sister had to hear her friend crying herself to sleep. He wished, for her sake and a million other reasons, that this whole thing had never happened. Megan would never know what being nine, or ten, or eleven-- was really like.

“Maybe after we give her some food she’ll feel better and talk to us. I’d like to make a trip back to her house if there’s anything else she needs, but I’d need her to tell me first. I don’t want to waste a trip out there.”

He didn’t mention seeing Audrey’s parents’ corpses in the bedroom to Megan.

“Hey. Will you go make your bed and get dressed please?” he asked.

Megan sighed in her most theatrical tone.

“Just because mom isn’t here to tell you doesn’t mean you don’t have to do it.”

She marched off, feet pattering against the kitchen floor. He didn’t know how to be a parent to Megan. He didn’t know how to take care of little girls. But here he was, the primary caretaker of Megan and now Audrey.

He looked back at Pete, slumbering quietly. Megan wasn’t wrong. Patrick’s last boyfriend, Austin, hadn’t been bad looking, but wasn’t in Pete’s league. He had had downy blond hair and a wide smile. Pete had more defined features, and though he had liked Austin very much, he had to admit to himself that he preferred Pete’s dark hair and eyebrows and pronounced lips.

A few minutes later, Megan came into the living area again, this time with Audrey trailing behind.

“Hey, Pat, I finished what you told me to do. We’re gonna go play with these on the lawn.” She brandished a handful of plastic horses at him.

“Okay. Go open the window first. Scream if you need something.”

Megan crossed the room and opened the window that sat above the little courtyard. Megan smirked at him as she walked out the door and Patrick realized then that he was absentmindedly stroking Pete’s head while he and Megan talked.

Megan slammed the door behind her and Pete jolted awake, pulling his head up from its place on Patrick’s lap.

“Shh. It’s okay, Pete,” Patrick said as he pressed Pete’s head back down to a relaxed position.

“Oh, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I’d fallen over. Here, I’ll move, just let me--” Patrick interrupted him.

“Wait. Stay. I mean...you’re fine. How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Sick. But I’m glad I have somebody with an attitude as bad as yours taking care of me. Won’t cry too much if I kick it.” Patrick felt flustered until he looked down and saw Pete smiling.

“At least you’re hot I guess,” Pete added. Patrick blushed.

“Oh, um, happy to do it. Don’t worry. I…” He stumbled upon his words. He noticed that Pete’s face was reddish and his eyes glossy again.

“Goodness, you’re beautiful,” Pete muttered.

“That’s your fever talking. Maybe I should get you more medicine. Except Andy isn’t here and I don’t want to mess with anything.”

“Well, I have a fever, but it isn’t the fever talking, Pete continued, though the vague slur in the words wasn’t too convincing. “Your eyes are this funny blue green color and your cheekbones are pretty killer. Plus your lips look happy, even when you’re frowning. You’re beautiful.”

“Um, I think your fever is pretty bad,” said Patrick.

“Hmm. Pretty bad. Like you. Except you’re just pretty. Not pretty bad.” Pete giggled a little.

“This is sort of weird. Can I get you anything?” Patrick asked.

“Yeah,” replied Pete. Using a bit of the strength he had left, he adjusted himself. He reached his arm around Patrick and pulled him in, so Patrick’s head was resting against his chest. Patrick could feel Pete’s heartbeat in his ear. In a moment of impulsiveness, Patrick craned his neck and placed a gentle kiss on Pete’s cheek. Pete grinned at him and leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes. In a moment he had dozed off again. Patrick stayed still. He knew that this was all because of the fever and that Pete probably wouldn’t remember this later, but he didn’t want to give up the opportunity to be this close to Pete.


	5. Holding Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick has started noticing some of the best traits of Pete. But when Andy's plans for healing Pete don't go as planned, he is forced to face a difficult possibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for the greatest person on the planet, Marissa. Even though I can be a crappy friend sometimes she's always there for me and I love her so much.

Patrick stayed with his head against Pete’s chest until he heard a rattling. After a few seconds, the door swung open and Andy, followed by the rest of the group, entered. Patrick knew immediately that something was wrong.

“What’s happening? Is everybody here? Are you all okay?” he asked, his voice frantic.

“No, slow down, everybody’s fine. It’s just that...we couldn’t find any of the medicine. The apartment was gutted already. Nothing there. We’re just gonna have to make do with what we have and hope for the best. Except that I don’t have high hopes for this weaker stuff working. I honestly don’t think he’s going to pull through this one. I’m sorry, Patrick. ”

“Isn’t there anything else you can do? Go to the hospital and find it or something?” asked Patrick, trying to conceal the tears rising in his throat.

This time Joe answered, her voice patient. “Pat, you know that there is almost nothing left in any hospital. That they used it all before everybody died.”

Patrick sat for a moment then spoke to Andy. “What’s the next step, then?”

“Let’s ask Pete, I guess,” said Joe. She marched over to where he slept and prodded his shoulder. He didn’t move. She persisted, poking at his cheek and shaking him until Andy intervened.

“I think he must be out from the fever.

“I think we should move him somewhere more quiet, if we can, We’ll see. Then I think I’ll try and disinfect it topically again, and give him some of the weaker antibiotic. After that, there’s nothing more I can do short of an amputation and there is no way I am attempting that.”

“He can take our room, as long as Patrick doesn’t mind. Ryan and I can sleep in here or something. Is that okay, Pat?” asked Brendon.

“Yes, of course! Can I...still stay with him though?” Andy’s look went right through him, and there was pity in her eyes.

“Yeah, you can stay with him. Let’s get him moved. Brendon, you grab his feet. Joe, Get his arms. I’ve got his head. The rest of you are welcome to do whatever it is you were planning on today. Thanks for your help.”

Brendon, Joe, and Andy, picked the limp Pete from his position on the couch and carefully carried him to the dark room that the boys shared. Patrick followed behind them like a shadow.

“I forgot. Patrick, take the blankets and stuff off please. Just the fitted sheet.” Patrick quickly stripped the covers and threw them on the floor. The other three placed him on the bed with gentle coordination.

“Okay. Brendon, will you go get a bucket of cold water and a rag? I’m gonna have you cool him off with that. I’ve got to go check on that cough of Hayley’s. Ryan, you’re free to go help Damon with whatever it is he was doing.” Ryan and Brendon obeyed. Though nobody was technically in charge, Andy’s wisdom and reasonable requests demanded respect. The three of them filed out, leaving Patrick alone with Pete sleeping on the bare bed.

Brendon returned a minute later carrying a bucket and a rag.

“Hey, Brendon, I can do this. You can go do something else.”

Brendon maintained his typical poor timed humor. “Aw, already taking your first bath together. Probably thought you’d be more involved on the receiving end, but you should take what you can get. I’ll leave you to it, then.” He grinned and walked out, shutting the door behind him.  Patrick rolled his eyes before turning back to Pete. He picked a sheet from the floor and draped it over Pete. He grabbed the bucket and dripped water from the rag to the sheet until it was saturated. He hoped that this would keep Pete cool for at least a little while. Though there was nothing left to do, he couldn’t stand leaving him alone. Patrick climbed onto the bed and laid down, facing Pete.

How had this happened? He didn’t even know this guy. He just showed up, but here was Patrick, days later, unable to leave his side. He didn’t know what it was. If it was just his looks, he wouldn’t feel like this. No. It was the way he had listened to the story about Alejandra, and how he had managed to sneak past them. It was the way he had listened intently to Megan as she explained some ambiguous and childish topic to him that most, including Patrick, didn’t have the patience to hear. He felt like a cliched idiot for feeling this way, but now that Pete was here, he never wanted to go back to life before Pete.

So he stayed beside him all afternoon and into the evening. He only moved to put fresh water on the sheet. Andy would come by periodically, grinding up pills to pour down Pete’s throat in the absence of an IV and measuring his temperature.

Patrick facing Pete, watching his lips move in time to his breathing, when Pete suddenly jerked violently. Patrick sat upright and saw Pete convulsing on the sheet.

“Andy! Andy! Help him! There’s something wrong!”

Andy threw open the door, her wet hair wrapped in a towel.

“What’s happening? Oh! Wait! Calm down, Patrick. It’s just the fever, it’s triggered a seizure.” But she couldn’t reassure Patrick, who was becoming hysterical.

“I can’t see somebody else die. I’m cracking, Andy, and I’m going to go crazy. I can’t see him die.” He was sobbing now, and trying to grab Pete’s arm to hold it steady. Andy turned around.

“Brendon, Ryan, come here! It’s an emergency! Bring the bottle of pills from the top of the refrigerator!”

Brendon and Ryan sprinted in. They looked terrified, trying to understand what was happening. Andy gave them another order.

“Ryan, hold Patrick down. Get him off Pete. Brendon get his mouth open. And give me that bottle.” Ryan peeled the struggling Patrick from Pete’s still convulsing body and pinned him against the mattress. Brendon came next grabbing his jaw. Andy poured three or four of the pills into her hand and, using the bottom of the orange bottle, crushed them on the bedside table. She swept the fragments of the pills into her hand.

“Get his mouth open.” Brendon held Patrick’s nose until he opened his mouth to breathe. Andy dumped the broken pills under his tongue and pressed under his jaw, forcing it shut.  Within moments Patrick could see the edges of his vision blurring. The last thing he remembered hearing was a few quiet words from Andy.

“I don’t think I should have given him that many. That’s pretty heavy antianxiety stuff. but we’ll just have to wait and see I guess.”

 

 


	6. Sleeping Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick has suddenly become attached to the boy-Pete-he and his friends took in. But Pete has been gravely ill, and Patrick's fear of loss becomes all too real.

Patrick woke. Late afternoon sunshine was filtering in through the curtains in the room. His body was stiff and he was laying flat on his back. His forehead was damp with sweat and his hair stuck to his face. Patrick felt disoriented. His room. He was in his room. He had no concept of how long he had been lying on that bed. Was it hours, or a day? Several days? He looked around a little more. He was alone, which wasn’t a problem. Brendon and Ryan must be out. But that thought caused some dissonance. There was something missing.

Pete.

Where was Pete?

Fuzzy memories of what happened flooded back to him. He looked around the room frantically. The bed beside him was empty-- the sheets draped over Pete removed and the blankets stripped. They had even peeled the bedding out from under Patrick’s limp body as he slept. His immediate thought was how quickly they had changed the sheets after his grandfather had died when he was young. That’s something Andy would do. He knew her.

He began to panic now. He sat upright, his muscles tight and sore. He pulled himself off the bed and stumbled a little, knocking over a glass of water that was resting on the table beside him. Patrick threw open the door and dashed into the hallway. He considered yelling for the others, but he couldn’t bring himself to know what had happened to Pete just yet.

He heard a noise from the living room and froze. He didn’t want to know. But he couldn’t stand not knowing. He braced himself, heart pounding, and walked into the living room. Empty. Nobody was in the room. Only tidy piles of pickings from the streets and the back of the couch. Patrick let out a small, choked sound.

Suddenly, a mop of black hair peeked out from the top of the couch. Patrick paused, and his stomach dropped to his feet.

“Pete? You’re…?” He ran around to the front of the sofa. Pete was flopped in front of him. His leg was wrapped in clean cloth and his face looked a little less hollow. He had shaved and some color had returned to his skin. A grin was spread across his face.

Patrick didn’t hesitate any longer. He dove into the couch, landing halfway on Pete’s lap. Pete flinched but grabbed Patrick and pulled him close. Patrick could feel Pete’s ribs and his heart pounding against them. All this in a moment. Pete leaned down, his lips next to Patrick’s ear.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty. Have a nice rest? Andy thought she’d killed you.”

Patrick scowled at him, bringing another grin to Pete’s face.

“I didn’t. I thought you were dying...and I couldn’t….” Patrick mumbled.

“Couldn’t what, Babe?” Pete said quietly, as his expression darkened.

“I don’t know, I just...the way you talked to Megan, and….” Patrick stumbled on his words, and Pete calling him babe didn’t help. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to. Andy told me what you did. Thank you for staying with me.”   Patrick pulled his head away from Pete’s chest and sat up, looking Pete in the eyes.

His head was racing. Do it Patrick. Do it. He reached, grabbing Pete’s chin, and slowly moved his lips to meet Pete’s. He became suddenly aware of his own inadequacies. His lips were chapped from his days asleep and his chin was stubbly.

Pete didn’t seem to mind, though. He moved his hands from his sides and wrapped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders, returning the kiss. Pete leaned into Patrick, hands digging into his back. They sat, intertwined, until Patrick noticed Pete’s heavy breathing.

“Wait. I’m so sorry. You’re still sick. I’ll stop. You need to rest,” Patrick said.

“No, I’m alright,” he said, punctuating this with another kiss.

“Nope. No more kissing. For now. Not until you eat or drink or take medicine or something productive,” responded Patrick.

“FIne then,” said Pete. “I’ll take toast, I guess. That’s all Andy’s been letting me eat anyway. You should probably eat something too though.”

Patrick nodded and stood, removing Pete’s arms from around his neck. He wandered into the kitchen and looked around. There was a loaf of bread on the counter, which had been left frozen for the last several weeks. Patrick hummed as he cooked the bread on a little propane camp stove. After it was toasted, he looked at it. It looked pathetic. He looked around the kitchen and grabbed a few other things. He poured canned pizza sauce on the bread and sprinkled it with powdered parmesan. Still looked pathetic, but maybe edible.

He put the bread on the plate and returned to the living room. Pete turned to him when he came back. His face lit up when he saw Patrick with the food.

“Wow, quite the delicacy. Pizza’s my favorite.  You certainly beat Ryan’s cooking.”

Patrick sat next to him and handed him the piece of toast.

“Pizza is a generous term, I think,” said Patrick, nibbling on the bread.

“Nah. It’s good. Nobody has let me eat anything but bread and banana chips for like two days.” Patrick looked up, surprised.

“Two days? How long was I asleep?”

“I don’t know. Four, maybe? She kind of kept giving you stuff to keep you out.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know for sure. Except...I think I was in rough shape for a while, and she didn’t want you to see it,” said Pete. Patrick nodded.

“I’ll have to have words with her on that. I could have handled it…” he said.

“Whatever you say. Hey, thanks for the food.” He put the plate on the coffee table in front of him and pulled Patrick back towards his chest.

“I think I could get used to this,” said Pete, brushing his lips against the top of Patrick’s head.


	7. A Bright Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick and Pete are left to regain their strength while the others go on their daily food raids. As they go about their business, something changes that transforms their idea of what life may be like without adults.

A few days passed, and Patrick was happier than he had been in months. He and Pete were stuck in the apartment, because Andy demanded that they build their strength back up before leaving again. Four days after he had woken up, Pete and Patrick were left, once again, alone to do household duties. They had eaten some breakfast with the younger girls, Pete even coaxing a few words out of Audrey before they had gone outside to play. Pete and Patrick remained indoors to wash clothes for the others.

“Oh, blissful domesticity,” said Pete, as he helped Patrick heat a small pot of water. Patrick laughed a little at the sheer absurdity of it all-alone in the apartment with Pete trying to wash Brendon’s socks.

“Yeah, I’m sort of looking forward to when we’re both allowed back on the regular rotation,” said Patrick, referring to the tidy little list of activities to be performed outside the apartment written in Hayley’s neat script. Hayley lived for logistics. She took care of planning when Andy couldn’t or didn’t want to.

“I don’t know. I think this is nice, actually. I get to rest here, it’s clean, I feel safe, and I have you. I can’t really think of an improvement,” he said, reaching around Patrick’s waist and planting a small kiss on his cheek. Patrick smiled. He wasn’t used to Pete saying or doing things like that--his stomach still fluttered when Pete said ‘you’.

“Yeah, you’re right. I shouldn’t complain. Oh-I forgot-Hayley asked if we could make a list of some of the food we’ve got. She wants to figure out what we need more of. Do you want to help me count...canned tuna, or cereal?”

“Cereal, of course. We can do that while the socks cook.” Patrick laughed. Pete had already become such a significant part of the group, it was as if he had always been there. He talked about comics with Damon, listened to Andy’s quiet direction, and teased Brendon back into his place. He did his fair share of the work without complaint. He still slept on the couch, but Patrick slept opposite him. After those first few nights, it felt habitual to be in the living room, talking to Pete as he slowly drifted off. Going back to his room with Ryan and Brendon seemed unnatural now.

“Hey. Pay attention, Pat. I’m asking you a question.” Patrick realized he had tuned out for a minute.

“Oh. Sorry. I’m listening.” Pete sighed and replied dramatically.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute, or I wouldn’t keep you around,” he said with a laugh. “Anyway. Do you want me to go grab the boxes of cereal we have in the hall and bring them in here, or do you want it somewhere else?”

“I think this table’s as good a place as any. I’m not entirely sure what she wants, but whatever.” The pair settled beside the kitchen table and began to sort through boxes, with Patrick writing the amounts on a little yellow notepad.

“Hey. Can I ask you about your parents? What did they do? What were they like?” asked Pete. He looked at the discomfort on Patrick’s face and spoke again. “Nevermind, man. If you don’t want to answer you don’t have to. Forget I asked.”

“No, it’s fine. My dad left when I was twelve. He was a drinker. I haven’t spoken to him in a few years. I’m assuming he’s gone. My mom...was a saint. She worked as a nurse at Memorial. She did nights mostly so I took care of Megan a lot. She hated it though. Wanted to be with us more. So I didn’t see her a ton, except for after she got sick. She actually stayed alive a lot longer than we thought, what with her working at the hospital. But as soon as she got a fever she stayed home until--until she was gone.” Patrick looked down at the table as he said this. “I was there. When she died. Megan was too. She was coughing so much, and you could see that she was suffocating--” Patrick choked on his words now. Tears were rising in his throat. “No nine year old should have to watch their mother die. I wish I could make her forget. I’m okay, but she--” Pete interrupted.

“No. Stop. I don’t think you’re okay. Come here.” He reached out and held Patrick close to him, and Patrick let out a little sob. Pete stroked his soft blonde hair.

“You shouldn’t have had to see that either. That’s awful. You can worry about you for once, you know.”  Patrick took a few moments to calm down as Pete held him before speaking.

“What about you? Your parents?”

“I don’t actually know. I left to live with friends the minute I turned eighteen-about eight months ago. I don’t know what happened to them, and I honestly don’t really care. They were always high. Meth and stuff. So I left as soon as I could. Went to live with some friends. They’re the ones I was with before I came here.”

“Did you work or anything?” asked Patrick. Pete looked ashamed.

“Hey. So...I shoplifted what I could, and what I couldn’t...I dealt for. I would steal bits of things from my parents while they were passed out or whatever. I would go in the house and grab stuff. Cocaine, weed, whatever. I also got in with this guy who knew a pharmacist. Please, don’t think less of me. I didn’t know what else--” This time Patrick interrupted.

“No. Don’t worry. I understand that you had to do what you had to do. It’s alright. I’m just glad you’re here now.” He leaned up and kissed Pete’s cheek. “We should get back to sorting or face Hayley’s rage.” They sorted and  counted, keeping careful record. Audrey and Megan came and went. After a couple of hours, the front door opened and the others came, hauling armfuls of clothing, food, and medicine.

“Good haul today!” said Ryan, dumping his armful on the floor.

“Good! That’s great!” said Pete.

“Looks like you guys had a fun day,” said Brendon with a look that made both of them blush.

“Yeah,” said Pete. “We got through all the cereal and some of the cans.” He tossed the notepad with carefully written numbers to Hayley, who looked over it.

**“Good! We’re set for food for a while.” As the others expressed their excitement about this, something happened that made Pete jump from his seat and Andy let out an audible sound. With a little flicker, then full force, the lights over their heads turned on.**


	8. Addition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick, his friends, and his boyfriend are thrown into confusion when electricity suddenly returns to Chicago. They don't have much time to dwell on this though, because they find some young friends in serious need.

Silence filled the room as they all gazed at the lamp hanging above the table.   
“What the hell?” Hayley stammered. “There’s no way. No way.” She was interrupted by a humming coming from the refrigerator, which suddenly turned on.   
Pete glanced at Patrick, his eyes wide, as he opened his mouth.   
“I wonder who--” he began, pausing when he heard a noise on the street. He turned his back on the group, walking to the door. Brendon, Hayley, Damon, and Ryan followed. Patrick glanced at Audrey and Megan.   
“Will you guys stay here until I come back for you, please?” Megan opened her mouth to disagree, but Audrey spoke first.   
“Yeah. We’ll stay here.” Patrick looked her over, surprised. This was the most he had heard her say in all the time she had stayed with them.   
“Thanks, Audrey.” Patrick bounded down the stairs following the others. He left the apartment and reached the lobby exiting to the street. The others were standing on the sidewalk, looking up and down the street. A few people, mostly younger teenagers, had come to the street and were looking around.   
He heard a little sigh coming from Andy’s mouth. She looked startled as her eyes scanned the sidewalks. He followed her line of sight until his eyes rested on a little cluster of children. He understood the sound they heard. A little girl was wailing.   
“Oh...I” He turned to look at Pete, who reached around Patrick’s waist and pulled him closer. His face crinkled in concern as he, too, saw what Patrick and Andy were staring at.   
The oldest of the kids appeared to be around ten or eleven. He had brown skin that was pulled tight, with every bone visible. On his hip rested the little girl who had thick, curly, black hair. She appeared to be faring a little better, but was still thin. Tears streamed down her cheek as she cried. One of her eyes was swollen shut, with a dark black bruise coating at least a quarter of her face. On their left was another little boy, who had the same eyes and skin of the others, but was slumped on the curb. He wore no shirt, and Patrick could see the skin straining against his ribs and chest as he struggled to breathe.   
“Guys. Guys--we need to help them,” said Hayley quietly. Andy nodded and darted across the street. Patrick and Pete followed. As they approached the children, the oldests’ eyes widened and he began to turn away.   
“Wait! We want to help you! Please!” Pete said. Andy was already kneeling down beside the younger boy.   
“Will you please come with us?” The older boy nodded, adjusting his sister on his hip and walking slowly towards their apartment. The younger boy struggled to get to his feet. Patrick bent down and scooped him off the ground. He was much too light, Patrick thought as jogged across the street.   
Patrick climbed the stairs into the apartment, still carrying the little boy. He entered the living room behind Damon and placed the child gently on the sofa. Opposite him sat his brother and sister, sitting silently with wide eyes.   
Ryan walked into the room, carrying a few pouches of juice. Andy trailed behind him, holding a bottle of pink allergy pills and a scavenged inhaler. Ryan knelt in front of the two children and began to speak quietly to them.   
“My name is Ryan. These are my friends. We’ve been living here for a while. We want to help you guys. Is it okay if Andy helps your brother?”   
The boy spoke for the first time.   
“Yeah. Help him if you can. I didn’t know what to do for him. I just know he has asthma or something.” His lip began to quiver and he inhaled deeply to keep back the tears. Ryan turned to face Andy and nodded. She bent over the littler boy, propping him up on pillows and placing the inhaler to his lips. Ryan spoke once again to the children.   
“Would you guys like some of this juice?”   
“Yes please,” the boy answered.   
“Perfect. Let me get them open for you.” Ryan inserted the straws and passed the pouches. He handed one back for the younger boy, whose breathing was less strained now. The children gulped their juice packets happily. Ryan gave them a moment before speaking again.   
“What are your names?” he asked.   
“My name’s Travis. This is Bailey, and that’s Riley.”   
“Nice to meet you then, Travis. How old are you guys? And how long have you been alone?”   
“I’m ten, almost eleven, I think. I don’t know exactly what day it is today but I know I’ll be eleven soon. He’s six. Just barely six. And she’s three. Our parents….we were left alone around a month ago,I think. It’s been really hard to keep track. We’ve stayed inside mostly. We came out because the lights turned on and we were looking for grown ups.”   
“I’m very impressed that you guys have managed to do so well on your own. Good job. I’m going to go get you some food from the kitchen, okay?”   
Ryan stood and left the room, beckoning for the others to follow him. Patrick, Pete, and Andy walked behind him into the kitchen.   
“We can’t let this keep happening to them. Or people like them. What are we going to do?”


	9. Tight Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After taking in some new survivors, Patrick, Andy, Pete, and Joe work to solve the problem of their group's increasing size.

The group led the three small children back into the apartment building and up the stairs into the apartment. The lights still shone from the ceiling, and nobody dared to turn them off for fear they wouldn’t come on again. Andy and Ryan made themselves busy attending to the three kids, showing them where to wash their hands and rummaging through the piles of clothes for some that might fit the children while they had theirs washed. They boiled some water for boxed macaroni and cheese, which they ate vigorously. Pete and Patrick sat opposite them on the couch, Pete holding one of Patrick’s hands in both of his and squeezing them tightly. The kids dozed off one by one on the sofa as darkness crept around them. Patrick stood, gathering a few blankets and piling them around the three children as the slept. The lights were still glowing softly, and Patrick noticed Pete’s eyelids beginning to get heavy. He pulled him closer, pulling him down until Pete’s head was resting against Patrick’s shoulder while he dozed. They sat like this, comfortable, until they heard Joe’s soft footsteps entering the living room. Pete’s eyes fluttered open and he sat up, still holding Patrick’s hand. 

“Hey guys. Will you come into the kitchen? Ryan had an idea he wanted to discuss with the rest of us,” she said. 

“Sure. Give us a sec,” said Pete, stretching his legs out in front of him with a small groan.    
They stood and walked to the kitchen, Patrick stumbling a little as he tried to regain feeling into his tingling leg. Hayley, Joe, Andy, Brendon, and Ryan were sitting around the kitchen table. It was quiet, making the humming sound of the refrigerator even more conspicuous. 

“What are we thinking about?” asked Patrick, pulling out a chair for Pete and sitting down beside him. 

Ryan looked up from the list he was reviewing and began to speak. “Okay. So being realistic, there are way too many people in this apartment. Andy, Joe, Brendon, Damon, Hayley, Me, Pete, Patrick, Audrey, Megan, now Travis, Riley, and Bailey. That’s a lot of people in this space, and I don’t think we can all be here and manage. Patrick began to interrupt. 

“Yeah, that’s a lot of people, but we can’t go and kick any of them--” 

Brendon rolled his eyes. “Pat, shut up and hear him out.” Patrick clamped his mouth shut. Ryan picked up where he was. 

“So as I was saying, there are too many people for this space. It’s a big apartment, but it there isn’t enough room for all of us. Four bedrooms, but we could use more. So what I was thinking, is we find a way to get into the space next door, or one of the other apartments. I want them close together so that it doesn’t seem like we are splitting up or whatever. So I was gonna ask Joe. Are there any that you know won’t have any people left? Or any that you know are big enough for some more people?” 

Everybody turned to Joe for a second as she thought through the neighbors she remembered. Her eyes lit up. 

“Yeah, I can think of one in particular. The Davis’ place, a couple doors down. They were old and loaded; I watered their plants while they were in Brazil for a month. They paid me like eighty bucks for a few hours’ work. And the apartment is huge, and they didn’t have any kids. I think that could work. We’d have to get down the door. Which is a separate problem. But yeah, that could work.” 

Ryan nodded. “Nice. I was thinking that, depending on the size of the apartment, Brendon, me, Pete, Patrick, Audrey, and Megan could go there. And leave the others in this one. Would that work?” 

“Yeah, I think that sounds good. If that arrangement doesn’t work for whatever reason, we can shuffle that around,” said Andy. The others nodded in agreement. 

“Are we gonna be able to get the door down like we normally do? Because it would be better if we could get it open without knocking it down so that we can still keep it shut against animals and stuff,” Patrick asked. 

Pete piped in for the first time since they had sat at the table. “Hey, I happen to be something of a lockpicking expert. I imagine I could get it open if I can get a few tools together. Without destroying the lock.” 

Patrick smiled a little, thinking of a younger, gangly Pete learning how to pick locks. 

“Perfect! Maybe we can plan on doing that tomorrow morning, then. Getting the place cleaned out and whatever else needs to be done before we can move in.” 

Patrick was tired, so he brushed his teeth and wandered to his room. He wasn’t in the habit of flicking on the lights, so he had to go back and do it. His room looked plain and empty, with an unmade queen sized bed taking up most of the room, and two guitars leaning against the wall. His clothes flopped around the dresser. He stripped off his shirt and jeans, opting for a t shirt and gym shorts for sleeping. He turned off the lights and climbed into the bed, pulling the comforter over his head and flopping onto his stomach. He mulled the day’s events over for a few minutes, beginning to doze.

He nearly fell out of bed with a start when his door swung open, a crack of light spilling from the hall into Patrick’s room. Pete walked in quietly, but grinned goofily when he saw Patrick looking at him. 

“Okay. So I was wondering if I could sleep in here tonight,” Pete asked, raising his eyebrows as Patrick’s expression changed to surprise. Pete laughed. 

“No. Not like... _ sleep _ here. It’s just that the little kids took the couches until we get more space. And I knew you’d already gone to bed, and I didn’t want to wake you up. So I tried Brendon and Ryan’s room, but it was locked and it sounded like they were...uh….busy or something. So here I am.” 

Patrick laughed. 

“Of course they were. Next time just pound on the door or whatever. That’ll get them. But yeah, of course you can sleep with me. I mean. Not  _ sleep  _ with me, I mean…” 

Pete crinkled his nose and then interrupted.

“I can just take the floor or whatever. I just need a blanket if you can spare it. 

Patrick’s face was red as he stammered. 

“No...no. You can take the other side of the bed. There’s enough room.” 

“Thanks, Patrick.” 

A little shiver ran down Patrick’s spine, just as it always did when Pete said his name out loud. Patrick scooted from the center of the bed closer to the edge, making room for him. Pete sat down, leaning back against the headboard and swinging his legs onto the bed. 

Patrick was tense as he rested his head back on the pillow. He could smell Pete’s toothpaste.

“I feel like this is awkward for you, but thanks for letting me crash here. I’ll get my own space tomorrow I guess,” Pete said into the darkness. Patrick rolled over so that he was facing Pete. 

“I don’t mind at all that you’re here. If you want to you can have your own space tomorrow. But I’m happy to have you here.” 

Pete and Patrick were laying face to face, and Patrick could see Pete smiling. 

“I’m happy to be here, too.” 

Patrick inched closer to Pete. 

They closed the gap between their mouths at the same time. Patrick’s hands grabbed at Pete’s face, holding his head still as he kissed him. This kiss was aggressive, desperate, and different than any of their prior kisses. Pete sat up a little, pressing his hands against Patrick’s shoulders, pinning him. They continued for a few more minutes until they both felt a little breathless. Patrick let out a little cough and he could feel Pete smile as their mouths pressed together. Pete collapsed against the mattress, laughing. 

“I’ll let you get some sleep, then,” Pete said, pulling Patrick close to his chest and letting the fatigue take over. 


End file.
